


Trauma

by roelliej



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Community: hogwarts365, Community: slythindor100, Disturbing Themes, Domestic Violence, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Psychic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rating: NC17, Romance, Squick, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roelliej/pseuds/roelliej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After surviving a horrible experience, Draco and Harry have to live with the consequences...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to D. for the beta-check! By far the most difficult story I've ever written. Thanks so much for all the kudos and comments! XXX

Harry walked into his living room greeting his boyfriend when he felt a shock settle in his stomach. Several bottles of Firewhisky were surrounding Draco.

“Where have you been?” Draco mumbled, while emptying the last bottle.

“Draco, you know that I was visiting Ron and Hermione,” Harry said, settling down next to Draco. “Little Rose is constantly asking for you.”

“I don’t care what the Weasel offspring says or does,” Draco sneered as he tried to stand up. “You should have been here with me.”

“I asked you to come along,” Harry replied. “But you wanted to be alone.”

“I said that, but I didn’t mean it,” Draco argued glaring at Harry. He could barely keep his eyes open and his fists clenched. He was trembling in anger. “You abandoned me—like you always do.”

“That’s not true,” Harry protested, feeling tears starting to form in his eyes. “I love you and I would never leave you. Why do you say those things? It hurts, you know.”

“Don’t act like an offended housewife,” Draco hissed, while he roamed towards Harry. “You’re lying to me.”

“Of course not,” Harry pleaded. He smelled the booze on Draco’s breath. It made him nauseous. “Why should I lie to you?”

“Don’t-patronize-me-Harry,” Draco hissed, his finger pushing on Harry’s chest. “I called Weasley and you weren’t there.”

“Are you monitoring me?” Harry exclaimed, feeling betrayed. “How dare you?”

“You’re cheating on me!” Draco bellowed. “You fucking whore!”

“I AM NOT CHEATING ON YOU!” Harry howled. “LISTEN TO ME, FOR MERLIN’S SAKE!”

“Why should I listen to an unfaithful partner?” Draco cried. “You’re pathetic. I should have left you where I found you. Gutter-trash!”

“Draco, I really hate you when you are drunk!” Harry screamed, tears flowing down his cheeks. “Stop!”

“Or what?” Draco hissed, while cornering Harry. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Go away,” Harry whispered, trembling with fear. Draco pushed him against the wall. “Draco, don’t touch me!”

Draco’s fist reached Harry’s jaw and he dropped onto the wooden floor. Draco grabbed him by his jacket and threw him against a bookcase, while a small black box with a pink ribbon flew out of Harry’s pocket...


	2. Chapter 2

“Fancy a nightcap, sweetheart?” Ron purred in Hermione’s ear, as he teasingly caressed one of her nipples. “I know you’re on fire.”

“Oh, Ron,” she moaned, feeling Ron’s hunger for her pressing against her thigh. A loud bang on the front door interrupted their intended lovemaking. “Who can that be? It’s half past midnight!” Hermione sounded scared.

“Stay here,” Ron whispered, grabbing his wand. He walked down the stairs and slowly slandered towards the front door. “Who’s there?” he asked more confident than he actually felt. He didn’t get an answer.

“I hope you’re not looking for trouble or you’ll face Armageddon,” Ron bellowed, and opened the door, wand pointed forwards. He looked into the eyes of his best mate, who was lying nearly unconscious on the pavement.

“H-help me,” he pleaded. His face was covered with dried up blood and he had a large cut above his eye. Ron carefully lifted Harry from the cold ground and carried him inside, his face pale of shock.

“Ron, who was...? Oh my God! Harry!” Hermione shrieked, shaking uncontrollably in her pink nightgown as Ron put Harry on the sofa. “He’s hurt pretty bad.”

“Who did this, mate?” Ron whispered, carefully washing the blood from Harry’s battered and bruised face with a wet washcloth. “What happened?”

“D-Draco,” Harry whispered as he silently wept. “H-he drank too much and...”

Hermione pulled him into a hug, caressing his hair. “Hush now. You’re safe here.”

Another loud bang made Hermione jump in terror. It was Ron banging on the table with his fist.

“Mum? What’s wrong? Daddy?” Rose mumbled sleepily. She held her teddy bear firmly in her arms, while walking down the stairs. “I heard a hard noise and...ooh...Uncle Harry?”

“Go back to bed, pet,” Ron said affectionately. “It’s nothing.”

“But...”

“You heard your father, Rose,” Hermione said strictly. “Up.”

Rose waved and slowly walked upstairs, while looking suspiciously at her father.

“That fucking bastard,” Ron hissed as he checked that the coast was clear. “He’ll pay for this.”

“Ron, don’t do anything stupid,” Hermione said as she healed Harry’s wounds with a wave of her wand.

“I never do anything stupid,” Ron huffed, a tat offended. “I’m only going to kick that fucker’s arse!”

“That’s what I meant,” Hermione sneered. “Ron, please.”

“Stay with Harry and let me handle this,” Ron said, while putting on his coat. “This won’t take long.”

“Be careful,” Hermione whispered, knowing her husband couldn’t be stopped.

“I will,” Ron said as he kissed her on the cheek. He watched his battered mate crying and suffering and it made what he was about to do easier to handle. He walked outside and Disapparated.

 

 

“Malfoy, open the fucking door!” Ron bellowed. “I know you’re in there!”

“Door is open.”

Ron opened the door and walked inside the small apartment. Draco lay on the floor helplessly, shaking and covered in his own vomit. Ron felt an urge to beat the pathetic loser into submission, but he also pitied him. He never thought he would feel pity for Malfoy, ever.

“Merlin, Malfoy,” Ron exclaimed. “What have you done? Circe’s clit, you reek. I’m going to run you a bath. Don’t move.”

He walked to their bathroom, situated next to the living room, and let the tap running while searching for bath foam. He looked into one of the cupboards, when he heard a voice coming from the living room. He snuk to the living room and saw Malfoy sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking to himself.

_“Hello, son. Still awake?”_

“I can’t sleep.”

_“You want me to read you a story?”_

“No, Father. I’ll try a bit harder.”

_“Are you sure? I could keep you company.”_

“Father...”

_“Come on, Draco. It will be fun.”_

“I want to sleep.”

_“Would you like to sit on my lap?”_

“Father...”

_“Don’t make me ask you again, young man.”_

“Y-yes, Father.”

_"Good boy. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”_

“Yes, Father. I love you too.”

_“Your mother doesn’t need to know this. It’s our little secret.”_

“Y-yes.”

_“You’re hard. You naughty boy. Can I touch it?”_

“Father...please.”

_“Put down your pyjamas, boy. I’ll give you a happy feeling.”_

“Y-yes, Father.”

_“Don’t cry, Draco. It will be over soon.”_

Draco rocked on the spot and sobbed uncontrollably. Ron stood at the doorpost, watching the horrible scene playing before his eyes and never felt so powerless...


	3. Chapter 3

Dearest Harry,

It still feels odd being here, even after all this time. I could say that I’m feeling better but that would be lying. I have good days, but the bad ones still have the upper hand. The Healer said it would take months, maybe years, before the darkness in my head will reduce and I’ll be able to fight back. 

How on earth can I fight back, if I can’t change what happened? I have a big mouth, but I’m not a warrior. Never was, never will be. Even as a child, as my father slowly approached me – already knowing what was in his mind, I couldn’t fight back. The only thing I was good at, was crying. I’ll never forget the excruciating pain as he brutally pushed into me - ignoring my pleads. He only got off on my sobbing. At that moment I realized how it would feel like to be in hell. No demons or circles of fire; just an ordinary man, disguised as a father, taking away a child’s innocence torturing him into insanity. 

I heard from the Healer that Father was sentenced for life for all his crimes. He really deserves it, but it won’t heal my shattered soul, which he knowingly destroyed.

Despite the suffering I had to endure, it was never an excuse to treat you the way I did. I wish that I could turn back time, so I could ease your pain, but sadly I can’t. Although it breaks my heart, I do understand why you never visit. I heard from Hermione and her parents that you’re working at Weasley’s joke-shop. That’s good. You deserve a bit of laughter, something I was never be able to give you. 

Why am I writing this letter? 

I never thanked you properly for all your love, and patience even in my darkest times. You’re a good man, Harry, and you deserve a person who can give you all the love in the world - healing the inner wounds that I’ve caused. 

I wish you all the best. I know it doesn’t change much, but I never stopped loving you. Never have and never will.

Love,

Draco Malfoy


	4. Chapter 4

Draco,  
  
I’m terribly sorry it took me this long to answer your letter. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say.  It’s almost funny.  In the past, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I was in your arms. I talked, you listened.  You really listened. Even when you heard the story a thousand times before.  The only way you could silence me was with your lips.   
  
It felt so good, Draco. The whispers in my ear. Your breath on my neck.  The kindness in your eyes as you slowly undressed me.  The soft groan as you came deep inside of me.  I have to admit, it still makes me hard, thinking of the quiet, erotic days in bed. They were so perfect. It was by far the happiest time of my life.  
  
But when those images fade into the cold of the night, I only see the hate on your face as your fist collided with my face. Many times.  I never told you, but sometimes I wished you would beat me to death, so I could take the memory of how you once were with me, still present in a small corner of my mind.   
  
I wish we could meet there, like nothing ever happened—a place where your innocence wasn’t brutally taken from you, and where you didn’t take mine.   
  
But life isn’t like the movie “Sweet November.” I couldn’t love you just for a month. I would have loved you for the rest of my life, or I won’t love you at all.  We’re both on a crossroad now, and I think it’s better for the both of us to go our separate ways. I could never stop loving you, but I prefer keeping that love concealed in my heart, where it will remain the rest of my life, unscratched.  
  
Tomorrow I will be leaving this house, the only place I ever called home, and this country, hoping to find my luck somewhere else. A fresh start, maybe a new chapter in my life.  
  
I wish you all the best in life and thank so much for that small, safe, but everlasting piece of happiness that you gave me.  
  
Always,   
Harry


	5. Chapter 5

Peace was spread over a young, skinny boy – his eyes closed as he breathed slowly.  He turned around as he pulled his teddy-bear close. A soft popping-sound evaded the silence. The boy opened his eyes in shock –the blissful dream of his friends at Hogwarts brutally shattered.  He looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight. He recognized the sound that woke him up and tears were forming in his eyes, while he trembled with fear.   
  
He looked around his room, desperately looking for a place to hide, but he knew there wasn’t any. He silently crawled under his bed, covering his ears, as he waited for the things to come. The sweet voice of his mother went passed his fingers.  
  
“Hello, darling. I’m glad you’re back.”  
  
“Really? Then why are you shaking?”  
  
He hated the provoking tone in his voice. He was drunk and the boy already knew why.  It was because he stayed too close to his mother this afternoon, messing up his father’s intentions.  
  
“I’m just sleepy, sweetheart.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me, woman.  What have you done?”  
  
“Nothing. Honestly.”  
  
A hint of panic. The boy knew his father would notice.  
  
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Shielding him.”  
  
“Lucius…”  
  
A  smacking sound ringed through his room and the boy heard his mother sobbing, while clenching his fists in anger and powerlessness.  
  
“Is he upstairs? Tell me!”  
  
“Lucius, you won’t…”  
  
The boy heard a loud thud and he knew his father had pushed his mother to the ground.  
  
“L-Lucius…don’t…”  
  
“Be silent, woman, because there is more where that came from. Boy? I know you’re awake!”  
  
The boy cried silently, as he hugged his teddy-bear, wishing it could protect him. The door of his bedroom flew open and his father stepped inside – the stench of alcohol took over the room.  
  
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” his father bellowed. Suddenly he grabbed one of the boy’s legs and roughly pulled him into the light, his glasses wet with tears…  
  
~*~  
  
Draco woke up, screaming in agony – the image of Harry being abused still burning in his retina. Even when Healer Weasley pulled him close, trying to comfort him, the screaming continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Draco smiled holding the letter near his heart. Its content rewarded him with closure and everlasting love –both he cherished. Draco had talked for hours. About his miserable childhood. About the indescribable things his father did to him and his mother. About the small ray of light that temporarily drove off the darkness in his heart, until he messed it all up. He still smiled as the cool air filled his lungs for the first time. He was finally free. He was alone again, yet he had never felt this liberated before. He gazed into the dark night, seeing nothing, but feeling everything. The tickling feeling inside his gut reached his brains. He was perfectly happy since a long time and it made his eyes water. He spread his arms, like that handsome bloke in that Muggle film, and finally understood how it felt to be king of the world. 

“Please, Draco. You don’t want to do this.”

The cold wind jumbled her long, curly hair, as Healer Audrey Weasley tried to reach Draco, who was standing on the edge of the roof of the clinic, where he had been living for months.

“But I do, Weasley,” Draco exclaimed, tears flowing down his cheeks. “I’m so grateful for all the support you gave me. I could never thank you enough, but I’m ready for the next stage.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Audrey begged. She tried to grab Draco’s hand, but to no avail. “There is no way back if you do what you’re about to do. Think of the people you’ll leave behind.”

“That’s the point, Weasley,” Draco whispered. “You are married to that twerp…I mean Percy. You have a big family who accepted you and truly love you. I have nothing. But that’s okay. I got acquainted with love and I’m grateful for that. Farewell.”

Draco jumped, ignoring Audrey’s screams of agony, as he fell towards his salvation…

 

~*~

 

“Nooooo!!!”

“Harry, what’s the matter?” Hermione asked worriedly. Harry was on the backseat of her car and she snapped backwards to look at him. 

“Turn the car,” Harry snapped, panic racing through his veins.

“Harry,” Ron said. “We’re close to the airp…”

“Turn-the-fucking-car!”

Ron obeyed.


	7. Chapter 7

“Let me get this clear,” Hermione roared, glaring at her best friend. “You’re going to miss your flight because of a _dream_?”  
  
“Merlin, is this the fastest you can go?” Harry snapped, ignoring Hermione’s remark.  “Step on the pedal, for fuck’s sake!”  
  
“Stop bossing me around, Harry!” Ron snapped, angrily. “I’m driving as fast as I can, but I have to take the other cars on the road into account. Besides I have to agree with Hermione…”  
  
“You _always_ agree with Hermione!” Harry growled in frustration. “Could you please stop acting like a servile Basset Hound!”  
  
“Shut the fu…”  
  
“ENOUGH!” Hermione roared again. “Alright, Harry! Have it your way. But you’ll see that it’s nothing but a dream.”  
  
“Maybe it wasn’t a dream,” Harry said.  “It could be a vision. You know I have had them before.”  
  
“That was because of your connection with Voldemort,” Hermione retorted.  “You’re not some kind of psychic.”   
  
“We’re wizards, Hermione,” Harry said. “It could be a magical connection or something. I just know I can’t ignore it.”  
  
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Hermione said rolling her eyes. “There isn’t any proof of what you’re asserting, Harry.”  
  
“But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms.   
  
“Give him the benefit of the doubt, sweetheart,” Ron said. “Harry has surprised us more than once.”  
  
“True, true,” Hermione sighed in defeat. “But I think…”  
  
The sound of strangled sobbing made her forget their upcoming argument as she looked at the broken man on the backside hiding his face behind his hands.  
  
“Don’t be embarrassed, mate,” Ron said – looking worriedly at his wife. “Did you really think that we wouldn’t  notice  that you still love him? We’re here, by the way.”  
  
Before Ron could park the car, Harry had stepped outside and sprinted towards the entrance of the institution. He opened the door and walked inside – looking into the eyes of a familiar face.  
  
“Audrey…Percy,” Harry muttered – hastily greeting them. “Where’s…”  
  
“I should have done more,” Audrey sobbed, burying her face into Percy’s shoulder – completely ignoring Harry.  
  
Harry’s eyes were drawn upon two Healers who walked past him, carrying a body on a stretcher – blond hair sticking out of the body bag…


	8. Chapter 8

He looked around, while the cold wind made his eyes water. He wiped a single tear from his cheek as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He took a cigarette, put the tip in his mouth and lighted it up with a silver lighter. He slowly inhaled the smoke – feeling it reaching his lungs, and he softly groaned as he exhaled –grey smoke leaving his parted lips.

He closed his eyes and his mind wandered off –bringing him to a place, where he felt pure happiness for the first time.  He strolled through the small village, enjoying the sight of the decorated displays from the shops and the snow slowly covering the road. 

As he walked further, his eyes were drawn upon a small crowd, who were screaming and cursing. He walked towards them – quickly realizing that there was a man lying on the ground. The men kicked and punched him relentlessly, shouting terrible, homophobic things.

He pulled something from his jacket, shouted something and the men ran away –their faces pale with shock. He made a mental note to have a firm talk with the reporter responsible for this assault.

He sank to his knees, softly caressing the battered man’s messy hair, who slowly opened his eyes.

“I-I need to pee…”

“I would have preferred: _Am I dead? Are you an angel_?” he said, smirking. “But I forgive you, Potter.”

“M-Malfoy?” Potter groaned. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Saving your arse, I suppose,” he said, as he pulled Potter back on his feet. “Shall we have a drink over there, while taking a look at your wounds?”

“T-That would be nice, Mal…Draco.”

 

~*~

 

“Draco?”

He turned around, recognizing the voice, which he hadn’t heard for quite some time and his heart skipped a beat.

“Harry?” Draco whispered – something red and bushy visible in the corner of his eye. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Saving your arse, I suppose,” Harry said, while nervously avoiding Draco’s intense stare.

“I…T-that’s very kind of you, Harry.”

“Yeah...er...don’t mention it, Draco.”

They stood there for a while – both unable to speak, before simultaneously coming closer and finding comfort in each other’s arms – realizing words could wait.  


	9. Chapter 9

"I brought a friend with me," Harry said as he greeted Molly with a hug. “Hope you don't mind."  
  
"Of course not, dear," Molly said. "Every friend of yours is welcome here."  
  
Draco Malfoy stepped into the living room, making Ron drop a dish with baked potatoes.   
  
He waved his wand and the dish floated back to the table, unscratched. Draco stepped forward and stretched out his hand.  
  
"Draco Malfoy," he added. "Former Death Eater who's asking for a second chance."  
  
Ron glared at his school-nemesis - the inner fight visible on his face, as he slowly walked towards Draco.  
  
"Ronald Weasley," he whispered, shaking Draco's hand. "Former stubborn git who grants you a second chance."  
  
Harry walked towards his best mate and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you," he whispered.  
  
~*~  
  
"So, this is the place where you were been born?" Draco asked, walking  through the small streets of Godric's Hollow with his friend. "It's cosy."  
  
"I was planning to buy a house here after the holidays," Harry said, nervously. "I belong here."  
  
"You do," Draco whispered. "Merry Christmas, Harry."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Draco," Harry whispered - his heart beating uncontrollably .  Harry's breath  was caught as Draco entered his personal space. It slowly started to snow as Draco's lips finally touched Harry's -stepping across a border both wanted to cross.  
  
~*~  
  
"Coat off," Draco panted, feeling Harry's ache for release through his clothes.  "Hurry up."  
  
"Shouldn't we..." Harry began, but Draco's lips interrupted his protest.  
  
"We've wasted too much time," Draco purred, caressing Harry's messy hair. "I want to bury the past. Right now."  
  
"My idea," Harry groaned as Draco moulded his privates through his trousers.  Harry quickly unzipped Draco and nearly dived onto his throbbing cock - sighing in relief as Draco's scent entered his nostrils - realizing how much he missed making love to him.  
  
Harry hastily wanked himself as his head bobbed up and down, desperately trying to free Draco from his pulsating ache. It didn't take long, before Draco emptied himself into Harry's eager mouth, groaning his lover's name, while finishing himself off with a few rough strokes.  
  
"That was amazing," Draco sighed.  
  
"Round two?" Harry purred.  
  
"Game on!"


	10. Chapter 10

Draco smiled. He loved the look on his lover's face as he slept, especially after having sex. He looked so perfectly peaceful.  
  
He kissed Harry's forehead and whispered a soft  _I love you_   in his ear, which Harry answered with a low groan. Draco carefully stepped out of the bed and put on his slippers.  
  
He walked down the creaking steps - shivering with cold. Even his warm bathrobe couldn't shut out the terrible draft in the Black residence and he longed for a nice, hot cup of tea.  
  
Draco's  eyes were drawn upon a small ray of light coming from the kitchen.  He could've sworn he'd put out the candles.  He opened the door and saw two shapes sitting at the wooden kitchen table. One of them had bright red hair...  
  
"Weasley?" Draco snapped.  "What the hell are you doing in Potter's house?"  
  
"I could ask you the same question," one of the shapes answered, while stepping into the light, revealing its face...

  
  
~*~

  
  
Harry opened his eyes with a loud gasp. He tried to get up, but was gently pushed back.  
  
"Take it easy, mate."  Ron whispered.  
  
"How are you feeling,  Harry?" Audrey whispered, while checking his pulse.  
  
"Dizzy," Harry muttered. "Where am I?"  
  
"St.Mungo's," Hermione answered. "You took quite a hit."  
  
"We thought you were having some sort of seizure," Ron explained.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry said. "Where's Draco?"  
  
"Oh, Harry..."

  
  
~*~

  
  
"This isn't possible," Draco whispered, feeling his head spinning. "You're..."  
  
"Dead?" a female voice answered. "Guilty as charged."  
  
"I know you," Draco whispered, while staring at the girl's bushy hair, tied up with a bright pink bow.  
  
"Lavender Brown," Lavender said, smiling. "Had a huge crush on her Won Won and slain by Fenrir Greyback."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I don't want to be the party pooper, but it's time," Fred interrupted looking at his watch.  
  
"But Harry..."  
  
"Harry is where he belongs, Draco," Fred said.  
  
Draco started to cry - realising the undeniable truth.  
  
"Don't despair. You will see him again," Lavender said. "Oh look. We're being expected."  
  
A bright light illuminated the room, consuming the three shapes.  Draco felt nothing, but pure happiness. He was finally free.


	11. Chapter 11

“It’s beautiful,” Draco mumbled, the sight of the sun shining through the leafy branches  and the beauty of the sweet smelling water lilies made him realise that perfection wasn’t as unreachable as he’d always thought it would be.  He wished he could share it with the one he had to miss for an unknown amount of time.  Time was everywhere and nowhere at this place.  Every time when thoughts and images of Harry were invading his mind, thinking about the happy moments they’d shared, an unknown force erased it, stopping the torture he was forcing upon himself.

“Now, don’t get all mushy on me,” Fred said, pinching him harshly. “Just enjoy being here. Harry will join us soon. Whatever _soon_ means, of course.”

“I wish you’d stop reading my mind, Weasley,” Draco snapped. “I’m not your twin-brother.  I’m not the I-share-everything-with-you-type. So would you please respect my privacy?”

“Attitude, attitude,” Fred teased, but said no more. He smiled quietly, pointing towards a tree at the other side of the small pond.  Draco followed Fred’s finger and didn’t know when he had to smile or to throw up in his mouth.  The bright pink hair of his cousin Nymphadora was radiating like a beacon, but was nothing compared to the deep shade of crimson on Lupin’s cheeks. They were obviously unaware of being watched, so they didn’t feel the need to hold back any animalistic sound.  Lupin lay on top of her, his arse going up and down in a frantic, but steady rhythm. Draco should have tasted bile, but couldn’t keep his eyes of the couple’s coupling. It was so pure, so filled with love and passion. Draco understood. Fucking was nothing but satisfying lust, pleasing the instinctive urge to reach orgasm as fast as possible. Making love was different. Draco remembered well.

He could still smell the scent of Harry. Manly sweat mixed with a faint of his aftershave. And the scent of his skin. It was indescribable. It was unique, just like Harry. He could still remember their last time. He still heard the soft moans slipping through Harry’s swollen lips as Draco’s penis carefully moved deep inside his lover’s divine tightness. He could still imagine Harry’s soaked hair as he gently wiped it from his forehead, revealing watery, bright eyes, pupils wide and darkened with arousal.  Draco swallowed audibly as he thought about the warmth of Harry’s erect prick throbbing against his stomach. His tongue licking his lips and he pulled Draco close for a lusty, but love-filled kiss.  Harry’s voice still ringed in his ears, whispering tender words mixed with dirty ones to encourage him.  Draco felt his eyes filling with salty water as he thought about his lover slowly opening his mouth, tightening his shoulders, hands bringing him closer than close. Then there was the sound of pure happiness, a few seconds of intensity beyond heaven, his name merged with groans of ecstasy as his lover coated his flat belly and chest with his fluid climax. The sigh of pleasure leaving his lips was all it took to push the heat pooling in his lower body into a sensational itch, being divinely scratched as he emptied himself into the perfection that’s called Harry.  

Draco tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest as Harry’s last words invaded his mind. He had said it many times; even when Harry’s lips were coated with blood, but it had never been more special when Draco had laid his head on his lover’s clammy chest, while listening to the fastened heartbeat.  Did Draco realise that it was the last time he would see his Harry alive?

“You’re getting in that state again.” Fred interrupted his thoughts. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Draco sighed, but before a tear could leave his eye, a strong force, like a tidal wave, washed away his memories about Harry. He just stood there for a while, his mind blank, but perfectly worried-free.

“There he is,” Fred said, smiling. A loud growl made the two men look at the lovemaking pair, witnessing Lupin and Nymphadora simultaneously reaching orgasm.

Draco turned away his head, his stomach filled with revulsion.  The only thing he saw right now was his niece being thoroughly fucked by a tamed werewolf. Every happy thought was gone for a moment and wished that he never had to witness their coupling again.

“Could we please leave?”

“Not yet,” Fred said in a mysterious tone. “We don’t want to miss the best part, do we?”

Draco turned his head towards the couple and his mouth automatically opened to release a deafening scream, which wouldn’t come.  Lupin’s body began to convulse, sending Nymphadora flying through the air in the process. She smashed against a tree;  the sickening sound of bones breaking made Draco throw up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand without looking at Fred, while Lupin, slowly and apparently very painfully, changed into the abomination, which was hidden deep inside his core for most of the time. A loud growl escaped from his beak, howling to an imaginary moon. Nymphadora stirred a bit, clearly not aware of the danger she was about to face as soon as her husband caught her scent.

“We have to stop him!” Draco screamed, finally realising what was happening before his eyes. “Fred!”

Draco turned his head to face his friend, but Fred didn’t even flinch. He just stood there as a chilling grin appeared on his lips.

“Just look,” he said softly. He grabbed Draco by the arm and violently pushed his face towards the horrific scene. “Look at the beauty of it.”

Draco tried his best to shrug Fred off, but he was too strong.  He cried out loud as Lupin jumped through the air, just as Nymphadora was slowly crawling back to her feet. She didn’t even have the chance to scream when her husband slammed into her, sinking his enormous fangs into her neck, blood spurting around in all directions.

“No.” Draco sobbed softly, flinching when the grip in his neck tightened.

“Like what you see?”

Draco was pushed onto the ground, hurting his arm in the process. He recognised the drawling voice and turned his head. Fred was gone. At the exact place where his friend stood, was his father, laughing maniacally, nonchalantly playing with his wand.

“I missed you, son,” he said, licking his lips. “I missed your screaming as I fucked your arse sore. The good old days, eh? Where does the time go?”

Draco tried to get back on his feet, but some sort of barrier prevented him from moving.

“Now, now,” his father sneered, calmly strolling towards him, his hands behind his back in a casual way. “We don’t want to run, don’t we? Aren’t you pleased to see your father again?”

“Father...” Draco brought out, his body shaking uncontrollably, completely paralysed with fear.

“Attaboy,” his father whispered as he bent down to touch Draco’s cheek. He tried to turn away his head, but he couldn’t move. His father caressed his cheek, sending ripples of convulsion through his body while horrible images of his past penetrated his mind.  How he was bent over the dinner table. How his father roughly removed his pants. How he was brutally penetrated without warning or protection. How his mother was lying in the corner of the room, beaten to a bloody pulp, as his father spilled himself into his sore body. How he was left behind, come dripping out of his hole, realising that there was no way he could escape this hell.

The sound of someone unzipping himself brought him back to reality. His father’s stiff prick was dangling before Draco’s eyes. 

“Suck it!” his father ordered. “Suck it hard and good, like your whore of a mother used to do.”

A short moment of rebellion came into him as he refused to put it in his mouth.  His defiance was cut short by a painful slap across the face.

“Suck it!” his father hissed, forcefully entering his mouth, nearly making Draco choke. “Suck it!”

And Draco did. He sucked. He licked. He jerked. He fondled his father’s balls.  He cried. Just the way his father liked it. He cried. He sped up his sucking. He tongued the slit. His father came with a loud growl. He swallowed. Just the way his father liked it.

“That was good,” his father whispered, panting softly. “Very good indeed. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Father, no!” Draco cried, but was pushed onto the ground.  He braced himself for the upcoming excruciating pain, but nothing came. He opened his eyes and realised that his father was gone. Everything was gone. Even large chumps of his flesh. Blood was flowing out of horribly looking wounds, which covered his entire naked body, onto a large, iron table he was apparently lying on. He tried to scream, but there came no sound.

“So hard to scream when your vocal cords are removed.”

Draco tried to find the source of the drawling voice, while his eyes slowly got used to the dim lit room. There was iron. There was blood. There were organs. His organs. Mashed. Draco nearly choked on the vomit, which was rapidly forcing itself from his body.

“You know it’s very rude to throw your juices onto someone’s expensive shoes, do you?”

Draco turned his head and looked into the eyes of a skinny middle-aged man.  His pale skin was almost transparent as it covered his bulgy cheekbones. His greying hair clung onto his head like it had never been washed. But it was nothing compared to his soft, malicious laugh, which relentlessly echoed inside Draco’s mind, giving him an excruciating migraine.

“Would you be so kind to give the meat-bag back his voice?” the man said softly. “I can’t hear his screaming.”

“Yes, master.”

Another man appeared right next the other. He was still young, but life had clearly been hard on him. His eyes were wet with tears, but Draco couldn’t decide if it was because of grief or pure joy. He mumbled a few words and Draco heard himself scream without the need for oxygen as the migraine bounced around like a tennis ball. Then it stopped.  The pain slowly diminished. Very slowly.

“Poor Draco isn’t in Kansas anymore,” the older man cackled. The other man laughed, but there was no joy audible in his voice. He laughed, because he was programmed to laugh.

“Who are you?” Draco said weakly, feeling dizzy because of the severe loss of blood.

“I’m your new best friend,” the older man hissed in Draco’s ear, touching his forehead with his bony finger. Countless images of excruciating torture, litres of blood and whispered words invaded his mind like a hurricane, making Draco realise the horrible truth. And his name...

“Alistair,” Draco whispered, trying to pour all the repulsion he was feeling for this _thing_ into his voice. “You filthy bastard!”

“There’s my boy,” Alistair croaked, while he slapped Draco across the face, blood flying from his mouth. “Did you like what my apprentice cooked up for you? You just loved sucking Lucius’ cock, didn’t you?”

“And there’s more where that came from,” the younger man added, his face expressionless. “So much more.”

“You better believe him,” Alistair whispered, petting the other man on the shoulder. “You should see his other work. Not as good as mine, but it still sends a tingle towards my unmentionables.  Do you want to see his other work?”

“Never,” Draco hissed defiantly. “You will never break me.”

“Do I hear a challenge?” Alistair whispered, roughly grabbing Draco’s chin. “Did you just refuse my generous offer _again_?”

“Hell is nothing more than a fucking playground,” Draco hissed. “This is child’s play!”

“You have no _fucking_  idea what hell is, boy,” Alistair said, and for the first time Draco heard anger in his voice. “Hell is my home and it’s going to be yours. Believe me.”

Alistair walked towards the exit of the small room, whispering something into the other man’s ear.

“Are you ready for another day of pain?” the man said, as he grabbed a huge knife, lying on a small table next to where Draco was lying.

“Give me your best shot!” Draco roared, abruptly silenced at the blade was plunged into his stomach, becoming one with the pain.

_Harry..._


	12. Chapter 12

_“Draco!”_

Harry let out a scream as he opened his eyes, the horrible image of blood raining down on a mutilated body still burning brightly on his retina. It was Draco, although Harry wished that he wasn’t.

_“You are awake, Harry Potter, although your dream is reality.”_

Bright light penetrated Harry’s eyes, even when using his hands as a shield. The light felt dangerous, but apart from Draco, Harry had never seen such beauty. A middle aged man stepped out of the brightness, a beige trench coat humanising him a bit.

“W-Who are you?”

_“I’m an angel of the Lord.”_


End file.
